


ne me touche pas (don't touche me)

by justromandaydreams



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Warning: assault description in first chapter, about that radio message, everyone loves charles, shit show of suzuka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-09-13 08:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justromandaydreams/pseuds/justromandaydreams
Summary: "Magnussen is and will always be stupid!"Charles just wanted to apologize to the driver for what was said over the radio. Then everything takes a turn for the worst when he meets a Haas employee.





	1. An Unexpected Encounter

The sky was a gloomy grey over the paddock as Charles made his way towards Kevin’s motorhome. He wanted to apologize for what he had said over the radio. The media thought it was funny, but it was nagging at him. He didn’t want people thinking he was getting cocky just because he was promoted to Ferrari. Charles was about to knock when the door was opened by a Haas employee. 

“Ah, I was wondering if you might show up” said the man. “Come on in, we can talk inside”

Charles followed him inside the motorhome. It appeared to be vacant and he briefly wondered where Keven was when he suddenly he felt a pair of hands grab him from behind and shove him up against the wall.

“So you came to apologize” the man whispered body flush against the Monegasque’s. “I know just the way.”

Charles stared at the ceiling tears gathering in his eyes as the stranger began to bite and suck his way down his torso. Suddenly he felt a hand on his crotch palming him through his jeans. 

“No, Please no” he pleaded trying desperately to move away. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t want it” His hand grasped Charles’ hair in a tight grip. “We all know how you got the Ferrari seat. There’s only one reason they’d hire someone so young.”

Charles was forced to his knees, one hand wrapped tightly in the young driver’s brunette hair. Slowly he ran his hand over Charles’s tear stained face in an almost gentle manner. 

“Come on pretty boy” he purred. “Open up…”

Charles began to cry harder and mutely shook his head. The man paused for a second and then drew back his hand.  
The younger driver’s head whipped to the side and he crumpled to all fours only to be hoisted back up to his knees by his hair. 

“Is this how you got that Ferrari seat? That mouth of yours is irresistible I have to say. Kimi’s getting kind of old. But you. Hot little piece of ass…. Tell me, is Arrivabene gentle or does he like it rough?” 

Charles’s stomach churned at the thought. Without thinking he spat straight into the other man's face. 

“Now you’ve done it” the Hass worker snarled before grabbing the Monegasque’s neck and squeezing tightly. 

Charles choked and struggled trying desperately to free himself from the suffocating hold. Finally, the older man let go. Charles only got in a few gasps of air before his assailant thrust into his mouth causing Charles to gag. The Monegasque tried to think of something, anything else to draw his mind away from the current situation, but the man soon sped up his hips pace and all Charles could do was focus on breathing, already lightheaded from the recent strangling. 

What happened next was a blur. 

He was forced onto the bed. The Haas worker giving him another hard backhand to the face when he started struggling. The second blow making Charles’s ears ring and vision swim. For a brief, merciful moment he thought he might pass out. The man seized on the Sauber drivers momentary lack of resistance, restraining Charles wrist and flipping him over on his front. Helpless, Charles felt like a child trapped in a nightmare unable to wake up. But this time there was no giant spider or bear chasing him but a merciless Formula 1 employee who didn’t care whether Charles was in pain or not. 

It was excruciating. 

He didn’t bother with preparation and Charles felt like he was being ripped in two. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the man rolled off him and released his wrists, but Charles was too in shock to move. With a cursory glance over his shoulder the man left for the bathroom to clean himself up. The click of the door finally shook Charles from his frozen state. 

The Monegasque pushed himself off the bed and onto shaky legs in an attempt to find his clothes. He located his pants quickly and then found his shirt by the door. Clumsily he tried to button it but couldn’t get his fingers to cooperate. His shoes were the next thing to find but hearing the bathroom door start to open Charles quickly abandoned that hope and scrambled out of the motor home as fast as his trembling legs would carry him. His vision blurred by tears, he ran blindly trying to put as much distance between him and whoever the man was as soon as possible. Suddenly Charles collided with a body. The force of the blow knocking him to the ground. 

Max was wondering through the paddock, finally having finished his press duties. He wasn’t particularly sure what exactly he was looking for. Daniel had offered to grab a drink with him later, but he still had a couple of hours to kill. His teammate’s mood had definitely taken a turn for the worse lately, but the invitation had seemed genuinely kind.

Out of nowhere a body collided with him. Max stumbled but regained his footing quickly. He looked around ready to tell off whoever it was but didn’t sees anyone. Then he heard a short sniffle. Confused the Dutchman looked down. At his feet was a half-dressed Charles Leclerc. Hair a mess, shirt half buttoned and no shoes to be seen the Sauber driver made for quite a sight. Max looked at him, unnerved by the drivers unblinking, statue like state. 

Slowly the Dutchman kneeled down and hesitantly placed a hand on Charles’s arm trying not to startle him. But as soon as he made contact Charles sat bolt upright and scrambled backwards his eyes still glazed over. Max, against his better judgement grabbed onto Charles with his other hand holding him in place. Charles thrashed around desperately trying to free himself. 

“Please!” he cried pulling away “Please no more, no more!” The strength of which he resisted was weakening. “I’m sorry.” he whispered almost inaudibly.  
And with that the traumatized brunette passed out, slumping limply towards Max, his head knocking against the Red Bull driver’s chest. 

“Shit.” Max swore, holding Charles in his arms. That did not go at all how he thought it would. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Carefully Max scooped up the prone Sauber Driver took and headed for the Red Bull Motorhome. Someone there had to have an idea of what to do because Max sure as hell didn’t. 

Trying to move as quickly as possible without jostling Charles Max took off at a brisk clip. The paddock was unsurprisingly relatively empty as the race has ended several hours prior. Questions shot through Max’s mind at rapid fire speed. Who had hurt Charles? What happened to him? Why was he half dressed? 

Max’s stomach clenched uneasily when considering the latter. If he thought about it long enough pieces started to fall into place. A half-buttoned shirt, the pleading, not to mention Charles attractiveness and the whispers around the paddock.

Charles was fit, every driver on the grid had to be, but he wasn’t particularly large or heavy. A boyish look still hung around him, compounded by his fluffy hair, sweet nature, and puppy dog eyes. Max never thought any of the drivers would actually try anything. For the most part F1 drivers were all talk except for on track. But looking down at the limp form in his arms Max had a sinking feeling someone in the paddock was an exception to that norm. 

The Red Bull motorhome had just come into sight when he heard his name being called from slightly behind him.

“Yo Max, wait up for a sec!” Lewis Hamilton began to jog after him, quickly gaining on Max who couldn’t pick up speed for fear of waking Charles. Max cursed in his head when he felt Lewis’s hand clap on his shoulder not exactly looking forward to explaining why he was holding a roughed upped, unconscious Charles Leclerc in his arms. A question he wasn’t sure he even knew the answer to. Bracing himself for the inevitable interrogation he turned around.

“Hey man. Just wanted to congratulate you on th….” Lewis trailed off as his gaze shifted down to Max’s arms, the frown quickly slipping from his face. “Max.” He started slowly. “Why is Charles unconscious…”

Max could hear the accusatory tone in his voice. Everyone knew Max and Charles were rivals in karting and weren’t exactly close friends in the paddock today.  
“It’s not what it looks like!” he blurted out immediately on the defensive.

Lewis arched an eyebrow dubiously. “Then explain.”

“I don’t know. I was just walking back to the motorhome and he ran right into me. The guy was like in a trance or something. I don’t know what happened to him he just passed out.”

The Mercedes driver took a few steps closer to gain a better look at the Monegasque that Max was shielding in his arms. “Ummm…where are his shoes Max?” Lewis asked softly. The four time, soon to be five-time world champion now deeply concerned. 

Max shifted uncomfortably Charles’s deadweight growing heavy in his arms. “Look man I don’t know. I don’t know why he’s barefoot. I don’t know why he’s half dressed. I don’t know what happened to him. I’m on my way back to the motor home.” 

Lewis shook his head. “Take him to Ferrari its closer and they know him. No offense to Red Bull mate, but Marko and Horner aren’t exactly the most comforting presence.”

“Yeah, yeah all right.” Max quickly agreed. Lewis had a valid point. Charles was Ferrari’s golden child. The Monegasque was tipped to take a world championship as early as 2020. If anybody would take care of him properly it was Ferrari. Not to mention Vettel and Raikkonen seemed to have taken the little Sauber driver under their wing. 

“I’ll go ahead and tell them you’re coming. Probably not best to show up in Ferrari’s garage with their protégé knocked out without a little warning eh?” 

Max nodded his consent and watched as Lewis left at a jog towards the Ferrari motor home. Worriedly he looked down at the limp body in his arms as he followed in Lewis’s wake. Charles had a deep, sharp cut across his cheekbone from what Max, if he had to guess, would say was a ring. The Sauber driver’s lips were puffy and bruised. Max’s gaze travelled lower to Charles’s lower neck left exposed by his half-buttoned shirt. There, just above his collar bone was a ring of discoloration quickly turning a putrid shade of purple. 

Suddenly everything clicked. “Fuck!” Max swore. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He knew what had happened. All the evidence was there. The Dutchman took off at a run no longer caring whether he woke the Monegasque or not. Max’s pounding footsteps echoed through the paddock but still Charles did not stir.


	2. Don't Shoot the Messenger

Lewis never thought he’d see the day when he willingly ran into the Ferrari garage. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked the team or its drivers. His relationship with Sebastian was exponentially better than his with Nico when they were dueling for the World Championship. But the image of Charles in Max’s arms eliminated any petty concerns from his mind. Lewis could tell something awful had happened but couldn’t quite place his finger on what it might be. The young driver needed immediate help. That much was clear.

As Lewis approached the front of Ferrari’s motorhome he realized he had no idea about how to broach the subject. It wasn’t exactly like he could walk in and be like “Hey your golden boy is unconscious with Max Verstappen. But it wasn’t us I swear.” Yeah no. That wasn’t going to work. Seb and Kimi didn’t strike him as ones to react violently, but they were both very extremely protective of Charles. With a short prayer Lewis knocked on the front door. A staff member showed up quickly. Lewis got an odd look or two but being a four-time world champion had its perks and he was soon let in. 

The motorhome was mostly empty with only a few lights left on. Lewis could hear conversation coming from farther back in the garage. Following the voices, which he quickly recognized as Seb and Kimi’s, he reached a partially closed door with light spilling out. Hesitantly, Lewis raised his fist to knock still having no idea how to break the news to the two Ferrari drivers. He knocked quickly two times, the sound echoing in the nearly empty structure. A moment of silence passed with no response. Lewis was just about to knock again when the door swung open. There, standing in the doorway was an obviously disgruntled Kimi Raikkonen. 

“What do you want Lewis?” The Fin demanded impatiently, his broad shoulders blocking Sebastian from Lewis’s view. 

“Is Sebastian here?” Lewis asked. He’d much rather deliver bad news to the German than to an obviously irritated Kimi. 

“What do you want with him?” demanded the elder Ferrari driver. 

“It’s important Kimi. Can I please just talk to him” Lewis replied getting frustrated. Max was bound to get there anytime now. 

“Just let him in Kimi” called Sebastian slowly walking over. The German looked tired and stopped next to his teammate. “The sooner he says what he needs to, the sooner he leaves”

Lewis gulped. This was not going to be fun. “Maybe you should sit down” he suggested shifting from foot to foot. They were not going to take this well, he could tell.

Kimi rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Spit it out, Hamilton”

Lewis glanced nervously at Sebastian, the Ferrari driver standing a few feet behind Kimi. “Look, I don’t know how to put this so I’m just gonna come right out and say it. Something happened to Charles. Max was in the paddock and…”

“What do you mean something happened to Charles” snapped Sebastian, suddenly taking several steps forward so that he now stood in front of Kimi who continued to stay silent,although his eyes bored holes into Lewis. “What the fuck did Max do?”

“Shit. No man. Max didn’t do anything. He just found Charles passed out. The kid looks like he got attacked or something. I don’t know” Lewis responded quickly, holding up his hands. 

Sebastian frowned deeply and started to pace. “Where is he now? Charles! Where is he now?” he barked at Lewis. 

“Max is on his way here with him right now. He’ll be here soon” Lewis replied trying to calm the fiery German. “I told him to bring Charles here. I thought Ferrari should probably handle this”

Sebastian momentarily seized his pacing and turned to Lewis argue. Finding no fault in the Brit’s logic he instead scowled deeply before stalking over to a chair and plopping down, foot tapping nervously. 

Kimi looked at his teammate and sighed. “Go wait for Max and let him in” the Fin told Lewis, his attention focused on Seb. 

Lewis nodded curtly before leaving the two Ferrari drivers to their brooding. He made his way back through the dark motorhome, careful not to bang in to things. Just as he made it to the front, he saw the silhouette of the Dutchman closing in rapidly. Within minutes Max arrived and Lewis opened the door for him. 

Max still had Charles tightly clutched in his arms, the Monegasque dead to the world. 

“Yeah. He never even stirred. It’s kind of scary” Max provided, noticing Lewis staring at Charles.

Lewis slowly shook his head. “Man, Seb and Kimi are going to flip the fuck out.” The Mercedes driver ran a hand slowly through his hair. “Come on. It’s gonna suck no matter how long we wait, and Charles looks like he might need medical attention.” With that Lewis made his way back towards where the current Ferrari drivers waited, a sense of trepidation building in his gut.

Max, for his part followed a few paces behind, awkwardly maneuvering through the darkness. The two drivers soon reached their destination. Lewis glanced back at Max. 

“Ready?” he asked quietly.

Max glanced quickly down at the battered driver in his arms. “As I’ll ever be”  
Lewis pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. Seb and Kimi knew he was coming. As soon as he entered the room Seb shot up and darted over towards Lewis. Kimi stayed put but kept a watchful eye on his teammate. 

“Where is he?!” demanded Sebastian, his arms crossed tightly.

Before Lewis could answer Max walked hesitantly into the room, unsure of what to do. It was not a situation he ever thought he would find himself in. 

“I have him” the Dutchman offered quietly, extending his arms, holding Charles as one might an offering. 

Sebastian turned sharply. As soon as the German saw the unconscious Monegasque his face paled. 

“Shit” cursed Sebastian. “Kimi look at him. Oh my god” 

The Ferrari driver’s reaction was not overly dramatic. Charles’s state was glaringly clear under the lights of the motor home. He was deathly pale, the bruises that Max had noticed around his neck in stark contrast with his skin. The cut across his cheek still oozed blood and his state of undress was disconcerting to say the least. 

Kimi arrived next to Sebastian’s side. He too froze for a minute, taken aback. “Lay him down” the Fin ordered gesturing towards the couch in the center of the room. “Someone needs to have a look at him.”

Max nodded jerkily before depositing the Sauber driver on the couch. Lewis shifted awkwardly in the back. The Ferrari drivers’ attention was focused solely on the protégé. The Brit wasn’t sure if he should leave or stay. Sebastian seemed to sense his uncertainty and briefly turned towards Lewis. 

“If you are going to stay don’t just stand there” snapped the German from where he kneeled next to Charles. “Sit down Lewis, you too Max. We’re in for a long night.” 

Max slunk over to an armchair that sat slightly in the shadows. This is so not how he expected to spend the night, but he was too involved to back out now. 

Sebastian glanced down at the still Sauber driver. “I can’t tell how extensive his injuries are.” The German hesitated a moment before continuing. “Kimi help me get his shirt off.” The Finnish driver frowned before moving to aid his teammate. Sebastian began to undo the rest of his buttons while the Fin lifted Charles’s torso in order to slip off his shirt. 

Just as Seb slid off his button-down Charles began to stir. Lewis and Max watched on tenterhooks from the sidelines. The Sauber driver was coming to. It was only a matter of time before he woke up. 

Seb lay a hand softly on Charles’s shoulder in a comforting matter, shaking him gently. “Charles?” he queried. “Can you hear me?”

Charles mumbled something softly under his breath, brow now begging to furrow. Suddenly the Monegasque’s eyes flew open, staring directly at Sebastian but seeming to look right through the Ferrari driver. 

“Charles?!” Sebastian exclaimed taken aback by the sudden change. The Monegasque’s breath was picking up pace. He appeared to be entering some sort of panic attack. 

Kimi reached out a hand to help Charles but as soon as the Finn extended his arm Charles scrambled backwards and proceeded to fall of the couch, clutching his shirt to his battered chest. 

“No!” gasped the Monegasque, now basically catatonic. “Ne me touche pas!” His shoulders shook as he pushed himself up against the wall trying to come to grips with what was happening. 

Kimi and Seb exchanged shocked glances before kneeling down to Charles’s level in an attempt to be as non-threatening as possible. 

“Come on Charles” said Sebastian soothingly as he and Kimi slowly lifted him up. “It’s ok. It’s all over now”

Charles for his part, did not appear to register Sebastian’s words. As soon as Kimi and Sebastian made contact with him he fought against their grip desperately. In a stronger state he may have been able to pull away but in his weakened condition he only succeeded in doubling over. A guttural sob escaped him as he felt two pairs of hands on his bare torso. 

Kimi’s heart broke as he and Sebastian slowly lifted Charles up off the floor against his will. Someone would have thought they were dragging Charles to his execution with the way he fought. He felt Charles’s nails drag slowly down his torso as the Monegasque’s adrenaline faltered. 

Lewis stood frozen in stunned silence. It wasn’t until Charles let out an almost animalistic howl of sorrow and pain, pushing desperately against Sebastian before crumpling into the Ferrari driver’s arms that he spoke. 

“Jesus Christ” He had never seen someone absolutely fall apart in the way Charles just had.  
Max just sat in his chair, staring unblinking at the weakly shaking form of the Sauber driver in Sebastian’s arms.

Several tear drops fell from Sebastian’s eyes as he looked down at his future teammate he currently clutched to his chest. Charles, always charming and well-spoken, had been reduced to a quivering mess. It made the German’s blood boil and run old at the same time. 

“I’m getting Arrivabene or Binotto in here now” Kimi informed the shocked group, unable to tear his eyes off the quaking Sauber driver.

The room was deathly quiet. The silence only occasionally punctured by a miserable sob from Charles as he continued to cry softly into Sebastian’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long. Life got a little crazy. But here's the second chapter. I promise (PROMISE) that things get better from here. I don't know how long it will be but I guarantee an eventual happy ending. Apologies again!!


	3. Debate and Deliberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's taken so long! I've been traveling and it just so hard to write on the road. Now I'm home and should update more regularly. Thank you to everyone who commented. Your appreciation really motivates me! Anyway, enough rambling. Enjoy!

“Someone should call the police”  
“That’s up to him, we have to wait”  
“Jesus when is he gonna wake up, he’s been out forever”  
“Fuck! I need some air”  
“Go I’ll stay here” 

Charles stirred, slowly waking to the sound of voices. He could pick out Seb’s voice. The German not exactly quiet. The others were more hushed, and Charles found it too much of an effort to identify them. At the sound of a door closing harshly, he opened his eyes. 

He was in a hotel room, his he thought. It was hard to tell. He could feel a cool compress on his neck and a plaster on his face. Charles' stomach turned slightly when he realized someone had changed him into sweats. The thought of hands on him while he was unconscious made him want to cry. Cautiously the Monegasque pushed himself to a partial sitting position in order to get a better view of his environment. And found himself face to face with Max Verstappen, the Dutchman having just looked up from his phone. 

Charles froze but his eyes remained locked on the Red Bull driver’s. Max’s eyes widened as soon as he realized Charles was awake. Quickly he punched a few numbers into his phone. 

“You guys are gonna want to get back here”  
Charles could vaguely make out a British voice on the other end  
“Yeah he just woke up, looks a little rough”

Max ended the call quickly and turned back to his charge who was still frozen in place.  
Reassurance was not Max’s forte, but he could tell that was what Charles needed before the future Ferrari driver reached a state of panic. 

“Sebastian and Kimi will be back soon. Vettel is gonna be pissed you finally woke up when he was gone. You know I thought we were gonna have to knock him out in order to get him to take a break. Kimi finally persuaded him though.” Max chuckled softly hoping to set a light tone. Of course, when you come ‘round it’s me. Not someone you actually would want to see”

Charles pushed himself farther up as if to argue with Max but quickly fell back against the pillows with a gasp of pain. 

Max grimaced. “Yeah, you’re gonna be sore for a while.” The Red Bull driver looked down at the Monegasque worriedly. Charles was still pale, and the bruises only seemed to have darkened. 

Charles jumped when, without warning, the door to the room was whisked open. There, framed by outside light, stood Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis, noticing Charles’s nervous state quickly explained himself. “Seb’s on his way back with Kimi. I told him I’d run ahead to check on the patient” He reached down and ruffled Charles’ unruly hair. “How you doing kid?” 

Charles shirked away from Lewis’s touch, causing the Brit to frown. He guessed it made sense that the young driver wouldn’t want to be touched but it still hurt that any part of Charles would fear him. With a sigh, he sat down next to Max to wait for the Ferrari duo. Charles closed his eyes and tried to shift his body away from the two drivers watching him. 

Max and Lewis didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later Sebastian came flying into the room, the door banging against the wall, followed shortly after by Kimi. Charles curled in on himself, alarmed by the sudden commotion. 

“I thought you said he was awake” snapped the German at Lewis.  
The Brit glared at Sebastian. “He is up. You’re just scaring him”

While the two were arguing Kimi had walked quietly over to the other side of the bed. 

“Hello Charles” he started softly, laying a hand gently on the driver’s hunched shoulder. “It’s okay. Nobody here will hurt you. Nobody.” The Finn continued to speak quietly to try and calm the Monegasque, all the while keeping a careful eye on Sebastian and Lewis

The soft tones of Kimi’s voice slowly calmed Charles. There was something about the Finnish driver’s presence that helped him relax. Gathering all his courage, the Monegasque forced himself into a sitting position and opened his eyes. Surrounding him were four very worried drivers, Sebastian and Lewis having halted their bickering once he had begun moving. 

“Sorry about running into you” Charles told Max. His voice was raspy, and every word sounded like a struggle.

Max winced. Of course, his first words were an apology. Then again this was Charles Leclerc. He shouldn’t be surprised. “Don’t apologize” he told him firmly. The young driver had nothing to be sorry for. 

“No, I…” Charles began but was cut off by Sebastian hushing him and shoving a glass of water in his face.  
“No arguing. Just drink” 

Charles peered down suspiciously at the glass in front of him. The German chuckled. “It’s just water kid. It will help the throat”

Slowly Charles reached up to take the proffered beverage, his hand shaking slightly. He took a small sip which was quickly followed by a longer one. Seb was right. The water worked wonders. 

The quiet was broken by Lewis’s phone ringing. The Mercedes Driver glanced down and groaned. The name Toto Wolff flashed across the screen. “I gotta take this guys. He has to be wondering where I’m at.” Lewis quickly exited the room, closing the door softly. 

“Shit Seb. We all have to fly out soon.” Kimi murmured in the German’s ear. Ideally, they all could stay locked up in the hotel room until Charles recovered, isolated from all responsibility and outside troubles. But that wasn’t the way the Formula 1 world worked. 

“Well, he can’t just go back to his apartment. Someone has to take him” Sebastian replied just as quietly, gazing down at Charles who had dozed off. 

“I’ll do it” Max’s voice startled the two Ferrari drivers. They had forgotten he was still there. “I’m going back to Monaco. He can stay with me.” 

The Dutchman wasn’t too sure about how Charles would feel about his offer, but he didn’t think the Monegasque would enjoy being shipped off to Switzerland or Finland. 

Seb turned to discuss options with Kimi. After a short conversation, the two Ferrari drivers turned back to Max. 

“Fine,” the German replied slightly sullenly. “But we have a condition.”

Kimi stepped forward; the Finn’s face deadly serious. “As long as Charles is staying with you there should be no visitors. Especially not Jos. Charles doesn’t need that. If Charles says it’s alright you can tell Daniel. But that’s it.” The Finn locked eyes with Max, sending a chill down the Dutchman’s spine. “Do we have an understanding?” 

Max nodded his agreement. Sebastian could be intimidating at times, but there was nothing quite like Kimi Raikkonen. Max had the feeling that if the Finn wanted to, he could end his career. 

“We have an understanding” 

Seemingly satisfied, Kimi turned and left the room, Sebastian following quickly behind him. Suddenly it was just Max and Charles, the Monegasque still asleep. The Dutchman shook his head. What had he gotten himself in to? 

Before Max could begin to formulate a plan, his charge began to stir while muttering a few incomprehensible words of French. Max watched as Charles rubbed his eyes with balled fists. The action was so childlike, so innocent. Between Charles messy bed head, and casual clothing he looked every bit the just barely 21-year-old he was. 

“Qu’est ce que c’est passe?” Charles looked at Max with a confused expression. Seb and Kimi were gone. He felt alone. Vulnerable 

Max didn’t know French, but he could gather that Charles wanted to know what was happening. Which was a more than fair question. He just had to figure out how to break it to him that he was stuck with him.

During the silence that had first met his question, Charles had gotten increasingly more nervous. Max could tell he needed to give him an answer fast. 

“You’re coming back to Monaco. But you’re staying with me.” Charles began to protest but Max cut him off. “Come on Charles.” he implored. “You can’t seriously think that being alone in your apartment is gonna do you any good. Besides I already promised your two mother hens Vettel and Kimi I’d keep an eye on you.”

Charles cracked a smile. To Max, It looked painful and stiff but it was a start. “They fuss too much” It was true. Charles had thought that the announcement of him driving for Ferrari next season would have driven them away. But if anything, they only seemed to hover more. 

Max nodded in agreement. “They do. Which is why I thought it might be better if you left with me” He glanced down at his watch and swore. “Speaking of leaving. We have a plane to catch!” He looked at the bedridden driver. “Can you walk?”

Charles swung his legs to the side of the bed. “I think so” He moved slowly across the floor, stiff from having been immobile for so long. Everything ached and he kind of just wanted to sit down and not get back up. The Monegasque hadn’t realized his knees had started to buckle until he felt two arms grab him. 

“You sure about that?” Max asked with a chuckle. He waited for Charles to regain his footing before shifting his grip so that he had one hand around Charles back and the other looped through his arm. The last thing he needed was Charles falling down a set of stairs. Vettel might actually kill him. 

Charles tried to pull away from the close contact. He couldn’t help it. It was like a reflex. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself before turning his head towards Max. “I’d like to walk without help” 

The words were rushed. Max could hear the thinly veiled panic behind them. He nodded smoothly before stepping away, hands up in the air. 

“All right. But if you fall down the stairs I’m not taking the blame”  
Charles gave him a very serious look. “I will take the elevator then”

Max had to exercise all his self-restraint to not burst out laughing at that. “Good idea mate. You do that” 

He received another comically serious nod in return before Charles turned and began to make his way down the hallway. Max followed at a short distance watching the struggling figure. His heart twisted when he saw Charles stumble. The Monegasque was always so buttoned up. Manners impeccable. Charming. Flawless. To see him make clumsy errors really gave a good picture of his current state. 

This was so not how he thought he was going to spend the short break. Taking care of Charles Leclerc. Because like it or not that’s exactly what Charles needed: some taking care of. The Monegasque was rightfully a wreck. 

Shit, he really needed to call Dan.


	4. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy. I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do with this chapter so it was easier to write. All your comments really encouraged me. And I'll definitely be taking some of your suggestions!

Daniel frowned when he saw Max’s name light up on his phone. The plane Red Bull had gotten for them to return to Monaco should have left hours ago. Technically it should have left yesterday as it was now past midnight. His teammate had better have one hell of an excuse.

“Where the bloody hell are ya? I’ve been here for fuckin’ ever” The Australian just wanted to get back to his apartment and sleep. While his fourth-place finish was better than the sixth place and run of retirements he’d been afflicted with, finishing just off the podium, especially when his teammate got third, was a hard pill to swallow.

“Dan, I’m sorry. We’re on our way! Look I was out in…”

“What do you mean “we”?” Daniel cut off the fast-talking Dutchman. “Max, I swear if you’re bringing back a girl I will…”

“No. No. It’s not like that.” 

"And it better not be your dad either” 

"No…it’s somebody else” Daniel could hear Max hesitate. “Charles is coming back with me. He…”

Daniel laughed, a mischievous tone in his voice. “Charles? Like Charles Leclerc? Did you seduce him or was it the other way around? Be gentle with him Maxy he….”

“No! No! God, this is fucking difficult” There was a hint of irritation to Max’s response. “Something happened. Charles is hurt and needs someone to stay with. It’ll make more sense when I get to you. I’ll be there soon.” Silence at the end of the line told Daniel Max had ended the call.

Daniel’s stomach dropped at Max’s explanation. The kid was like Max’s age. He knew the Monegasque’s story, everyone did, but he didn’t really know him. But during every interaction, he’d had with Charles the driver had been nothing but kind and courteous. Almost to a fault. It made sense that Charles would go back with Max. He was from Monaco after all. How the soft-spoken Sauber driver would mesh with Max’s fiery personality was a question that remained to be answered.

Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath after his call with Dan. Of course, the Australian’s mind would jump immediately to a scandalous hookup. That was classic Dan. Yes, Charles was attractive and maybe in other circumstances, he would allow himself to dwell on that hypothetical scenario longer. But right now, the man in question was basically dragging himself to the front entrance of the hotel where a car was waiting for them.

Charles had just made it to the lobby when he caught his foot under the edge of a rug. Thrown off balance, he tumbled to the ground. Shit. Nothing was going right for him. He attempted to stand back up but found it too difficult. Tears started to fall. It was just too much. Why couldn’t one thing go right?

Max rushed forward when he saw Charles fall and not get back up. When the Red Bull driver grasped the fallen driver's arm firmly, he felt Charles flinch. Max sighed. “Come on mate. Let me help you. We’re almost to the plane.” He could almost see Charles’ internal struggle to allow Max to touch him. Eventually the Monegasque relented and placed a shaking hand on Max for support.

The pair quickly made it through the lobby and outside to where a discreet car waited. Max had never been more relieved than then when he was greeted with zero photographers. The press was hard enough to deal with under normal circumstances. Reaching around Charles, he opened the door of the car and they slid in together. Almost immediately Charles moved to the opposite side of the car where he curled up as if trying to block out the world.

The ride passed quickly. At least it did for Max. He couldn’t tell how Charles felt, as the driver in question was still wrapped up. Soon the car arrived at the now nearly deserted airport. Max thanked the driver and gave Charles a brief tug to inform him it was time to leave. The Monegasque looked up with bleary eyes and half slid half stumbled out of the car.

Max simply couldn’t stand watching Charles struggle anymore. He wrapped Charles arm around his shoulders. By the time they got to the tarmac where Max could see Dan waiting, the Dutchman was half carrying him.

Dan glanced up from his phone to see a heart-wrenching sight. A horribly pale, roughed up looking Charles Leclerc was being half dragged down the hallway by a stressed out looking Max Verstappen. Pocketing his phone, Daniel quickly rushed forward to help his teammate. The Australian slung Charles other arm over his shoulders. It made an alarming picture: Charles' head hung low; his normally fluffy hair as droopy as the rest of him looked. If it weren’t for the nearly identical looks of concern worn by the two Red Bull drivers, it would look like they were in the process of kidnapping Ferrari’s protégé.

Once the three drivers arrived on the small plane, Charles pulled away and sank down into an oversized seat. In Daniel’s opinion, he looked dead to the world. With one more glance over his shoulder, he turned back to his teammate.

“Jesus Max! What the hell happened to him”

Max groaned, running a hand down his face. “You might want to sit down mate”

Daniel gave him a confused look but then sat down opposite of Max. “I’m beginning to get the feeling this is somehow worse than it looks”

Max let out a harsh laugh. “You can fucking say that again”

As Max recounted the ordeal to Daniel, the Australian’s face slowly paled. He felt a bit queasy.

“Jesus. Dan. When Seb and Kimi were trying to help him. Fuck man. If a person could shatter, he did. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Max shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that scream” He trailed off and stared out the window.

Daniel stood up abruptly, breaking Max out of his reverie. “I need a god damn drink” He strode to the back of the plane and returned back with a pair of lowball glasses and two bottles whiskey and rum.

“Pick your poison, mate”

Max stared at the bottles in silence before pouring a strong glass of whiskey. He just wanted to relax. To forget. Maybe alcohol wasn’t the best choice, but it was currently his only option.

Daniel poured a smaller portion of rum into his glass and settled back for a long flight. He watched Max down most of his drink before slowly nodding off. The last thing Daniel remembered was the soft snores of his exhausted teammate before he too fell into the welcoming abyss of sleep.

The plane ride passed uneventfully. Daniel switched between listening to music and napping, Max faded in and out of sleep and spent the rest of the time staring out the window. Charles slept the whole flight. Max was happy that the Monegasque was able to rest peacefully but he had a feeling Charles’ near hibernation was the calm before the storm. Based off of Daniel’s expression he could tell his teammate shared the same worry.

In Daniel’s honest opinion he thought a 21-year-old taking care of a nearly 21-year-old was a recipe for disaster. The Australian rarely felt old, he was only 29 for Christ’s sake, but in that moment, he felt those eight years he had on the two.

“You know you can call me if you need help?” It was both a question and an offer.

Max nodded. “Yeah. Honestly, you might get one or two. I have a feeling he….” Max trailed off unsure of how to put into words his fears. The Dutchman scowled when he saw the bruises encircling the Monegasque’s neck had darkened to a putrid purple. Max knew things were probably going to get worse before they got better. And he didn’t just mean the bruises.

“I get it man.” A matching scowl crossed the Australian’s face when he saw where Max was looking. “Jesus, whoever did this is one sick fucker.”

Daniel felt like punching something. He had promised to himself when Charles earned an F1 seat that he would keep a close eye on him. Jules wasn’t there to look after his godson. What would he say now?

Daniel could feel unbidden tears come to his eyes and wiped them away harshly. Now was not the time for sentiment or weakness.

Charles was pulled from his near comatose state when the plane touched down with a slight bump. For a brief moment, he forgot why he was there with the two drivers from a rival team. And then it all came crashing back.

He could feel the Haas man’s hands on him. He could hear the horrible implications he made about how he got his seat for next year. _We all know how you got your Ferrari seat._ _There’s only one reason they’d hire someone so young…_ It wasn’t true. But the fact that there could be rumors circling around the paddock that he slept his way into a top seat made him want to vomit. _There’s only one reason they’d hire someone so young…_ The thought just kept repeating in his head. Suddenly it was all just too much and he couldn’t keep his fears bottled up anymore.

“I earned my Ferrari seat!”

The outburst surprised the two drivers from their quiet conversation.

Daniel smiled softly. “I know buddy, we all saw the announcement after Monza.” To the Australian’s surprise that didn’t seem to placate Charles. In fact, there were tear tracks on the Monegasque’s face.

Charles shook his head violently. “ I-I earned it. I di-didn’t s-sleep with an-any-bo-body!” Charles was dangerously close to hyperventilating, his breath coming in short bursts.

Max turned on his heel and fled into the bathroom in the back. After hearing Charles statement, the whiskey in his stomach felt as though it needed to make a reappearance.

Daniel’s heart broke. He knelt down in front of Charles and grasped both his hands. “Nobody thinks you did. Just like you said, you earned it”

Charles wrenched his hands away to rub his eyes. “H-He did. Wh-when he…” The distraught twenty-year-old trailed off unable to recount to the Australian what happened.

Daniel shushed him. “Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s all over.” He continued in that train of speaking in a calm tone. By the time Max finally reappeared, looking slightly green, Charles had calmed down considerably and was now staring intently at his fingernails.

“Let’s go home Charles” The Dutchman held out a hand.

Charles ignored it and stood up by himself. He was going to walk off the plane unaided even if it killed him. Disembarking went fairly smoothly. He only stumbled once and there were no paparazzi waiting to ambush him. One of the perks of Monaco.

Their luggage was waiting for them when they got to the car. Daniel and Max lived in the same apartment complex so there was no reason to take separate cars. In no time they were home. Daniel gave Max a look that very clearly meant ‘call me if it all goes to shit’, before heading off.

Together Max and Charles made it up to the Red Bull driver’s apartment. Max strode in, immediately dumping suitcases and duffel bags on the ground. He turned around to see Charles standing awkwardly by the door. Max had forgotten how shitty of a host he was. It was a miracle his apartment was actually clean.

“Make yourself comfortable. Eat whatever. Drink whatever. I’ll be in my room.” If the Dutchman had to hazard a guess, he would say that Charles wanted some alone time. The Monegasque had been surrounded by people since Max had encountered him. Considering what happened… Max stopped himself from going down that path. He didn’t fancy another date with the porcelain bowl.

Charles, still rooted to the spot, watched Max walk into the bedroom. Hesitantly he pushed off his shoes before padding over to the couch. With a dull ache in his bones, he positioned himself so that he could see out over Max’s balcony to the crystal blue water below. Charles put in his earbuds. Perhaps music would help drown out his own thoughts.

The Monegasque had never felt so out of place in his own country than right then. Slowly he drifted off into a light slumber, _Still So Young_ by Woodes playing in his ears.

_All of my friends_  
_All of their ghosts_  
_They try to remember the days when they_  
_Drew all their plans_  
_All of their hopes_  
_But we'll never bend cause you know that_  
_Once it was impossible to fly_  
_Follow the ones with dreams too high_


	5. To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Laissez-moi seul!- Leave me alone!  
> L'enfer c'est les autres, ne c'est pas? - Hell is other people, is it not?  
> Pas tous les autres.- Not all people.  
> Prends soin de toi, s'il te plaît.- Take care of yourself, please.

_He is back in the Haas motorhome. The man has him pressed up against the wall, hissing horrible things into his ear._

_“I knew it. You fucked your way into Ferrari”_

_Charles feels invasive hands everywhere but can’t move. He desperately shakes his head but finds he has no voice. Hiding in the shadows is a figure he can’t quite recognize. Charles hangs his head in resignation, all the fight drained out of him. A hand forces his chin upward and Charles can do nothing to stop it._

_There, looking him dead in the eye is Kimi. But this Kimi’s eyes hold none of the gentleness Charles was so used to seeing, but rather burn with anger._

_“That’s right” the Finn snarled. “Show me why I lost my seat”_

_Again, Charles viciously shakes his head. A sharp blow across his face sends him reeling and down onto a floor that he doesn’t remember being mirrored._

_Suddenly his blood runs cold when he catches sight of the man in the reflection. The Haas employee had disappeared and was replaced with Sebastian. Like Kimi, this Sebastian is cold, angry. Heartless._

_“I’ll still be the number one driver, dearie” the German croons in a poisonously sweet tone._

_It was all too much for Charles. Fear and pain turn into panic and anguish._

_“No! No! Laissez-moi seul!” Charles lashes out. Desperately twisting on the mirrored floor that reflects the faces of the two men he always believed would protect him._

* * *

 

Max awoke to a loud thump. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced down at his phone, nearly blinded by the light. 3:52. Jesus Christ. Blearily he rolled out of bed to check on Charles. He had an uncomfortable feeling that the Monegasque had been the source of the noise. Slowly, Max made his way through his apartment, careful not to bang his toe against anything. But at the sound of another thump followed by a muffled scream, he took off running, all caution abandoned.

Within seconds he arrived at the couch where Charles had curled up hours earlier. Strangely there was a distinct lack of a certain F1 driver. Max felt something brush against his sock-clad feet. With a sinking feeling, he looked down.

At his feet lay Charles clearly trapped in a nightmare. The Sauber driver was thrashing around, his words muffled by the blankets encasing him. Max knew he had to wake Charles up before the driver ended up injuring himself. Max couldn’t imagine informing Kimi or Sebastian that Charles had broken a finger, or worse, a hand. They’d have him hung, draw, and quartered faster than an Italian could say Ferrari.

Hesitantly he kneeled down and placed a gentle hand on Charles’ shoulder. The Dutchman gave the sleeping driver a shake. But nothing happened. If anything, Charles seemed to fight more. Further attempts made little difference. Eventually, Max gave up with gentle and grasped Charles’ flailing arms in a tight grip and shook him hard.

 

“Charles! Wake up! You’re sleeping! Wake up!”

 

The Red Bull driver gave him a couple more good shakes before Charles finally seemed to come to.

 

* * *

 

Charles heard somebody calling his name. He could still feel hands, whose, he didn’t know. But the voice was growing louder and the touches growing fainter, until finally, he felt hands, real hands, shaking him. Charles opened his eyes to the sight of Max kneeling over him. He let out a sigh of relief. It had just been a nightmare. Nothing more. And now he would really like if Max let go of him. The feeling of being restrained felt too similar to what had just transpired in his sleep.

The Dutchman seemed to be able to read his mind. Max let go of Charles’ and sat back on his haunches, observing him in the way one might an injured baby animal. Feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed, Charles sat up and pulled the blankets tight around him, all the while avoiding Max’s eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d woken up Max. It was mortifying. And the Dutchman was sure to not to be pleased to be awake at, Charles caught a glance of the clock, 4:13. Shit.

While Charles stared resolutely at the ground or out the window, really anywhere but at the Red Bull driver, it gave Max a chance to fully take in Charles’ state; his hair was damp with sweat, eyes still blown wide, and he could see Charles shaking under the blankets he had wrapped around himself like a sheet of armor.

 

“Do you want anything?” Max could no longer stand the tension in the room.

 

Charles shook his head in a manner not dissimilar to his dream self.

 

Max frowned. “I’m getting you a glass of water.” Before Charles could argue he got up and made his way to the kitchen, quickly returning, not wanting to leave the Monegasque alone to long.

 

He returned to the scene of a shirtless Charles. The driver held his sweat-soaked shirt clasped in his hand and had moved back up on the couch. Charles had his back to him. Max scowled when he saw how the toned muscles of his back were marred by handprint-shaped bruises. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Max walked around the couch and set the glass down on the side table.

 

“You need to drink that.” He nodded towards the water.

 

Cursing his hands for still shaking, Charles picked up the glass and took a sip.

 

“Sorry for waking you up.” His voice was quiet, unsure.

 

Max resisted the urge to sigh. “You don’t need to apologize. We all get nightmares.”

 

Charles looked up skeptically at Max. His expression seemed to say, “what could you possibly have nightmares about?”

 

“Not like this.”

 

Max quirked a small smile. “No, you’re right, not like this.”

 

Charles returned to tracing his finger around the rim of the glass. He didn’t understand why Max hadn’t just gone back to bed. Surely, he had to be tired. Charles looked up in surprise when he felt the couch sink a bit. To his amazement, Max had plopped himself down at the other end.

 

Max chuckled at the look of shock on Charles’ face. “I don’t bite, mate. No matter what the media says.” It was clear Charles still wasn’t entirely comfortable around him. Max didn’t blame him. They were predicted to be the next big rivals, the future of Formula One. It was natural for Charles to be wary.

 

“Do you think Kimi is mad at me?” Charles stared out the window, an unreadable look on his face.

 

Max was thrown off-guard. That was not a question he’d been expecting. It was complicated. Obviously, Kimi was going to be disappointed to no longer be fighting for podiums, but the Finn had to have seen his replacement as inevitable.

 

“No of course not. He may just miss being in the same team as Sebastian.”

 

Charles winced, Max’s response reminding him of his dream. “Yeah, I’m sure he will…”

 

Max could tell that he wasn’t going to get much more out of Charles, the Monegasque clearly lost in thought. Carefully so as not to disturb his distressed guest, he stood up from the couch and made his way back to his bedroom. One last glance over his shoulder showed Charles still staring out over the water, knees tucked up to his chest. Max let out a heavy sigh and flopped down on his bed, sleep immediately washing over him.

 

 

* * *

 

A loud banging on the door roused Charles from where he had dozed off. The knocking continued and Max didn’t seem to be coming so he decided to see who it was. A quick look through the peephole revealed a certain smiley Australian to be the source of the noise.

Charles suddenly realized he was lacking a shirt. Not wanting to leave Daniel waiting any longer he pulled his blanket tight around him and opened the door.

Daniel almost dropped the cartons of food he was holding when the door open. For the briefest of seconds, he had mistaken Charles for Jules. Without any team or sponsor clothing on the similarities between the two were striking. In that moment, when the door had opened, Charles had looked exactly like Jules had when they’d both been out to late and ended up crashing in each other’s rooms. Suddenly aware that he was still standing there, Daniel coughed awkwardly and stepped into the apartment. Max never minded when he dropped by and Charles didn’t strike him as one to argue.

The look on Daniel’s face was familiar to Charles. The Australian looked like he had seen a ghost. Deciding not to go down that treacherous conversation path, which only promised heartbreak, Charles turned his back to Daniel and plopped down by his bag.

 

“I’m pretty sure Max isn’t up yet” he informed Daniel while rummaging around for a non-team branded shirt. “I just woke up.”

 

Daniel arched a quizzical eyebrow at that. It was nearly noon. The Australian had brought food over for the three of them to eat lunch. He for one was starving, having powered through a grueling training session earlier.

 

“We can let lazy bones sleep. You, on the other hand, need to eat.” He poked Charles good-naturedly in the side. “ ’Cuz I know it’s been at least a day.” Daniel turned and started unpacking in the kitchen, not bothering to wait for a response.

 

Charles stood and watched Daniel for a minute as the older driver bustled around in the kitchen. The amount of noise the Australian made was impressive. Max’s ability to sleep through it, even more so. It was nice, Charles thought, having Daniel around. Kind of like having his older brother there, except he could talk to Daniel about the pressure cooker environment that was F1 because the Australian lived in the chaotic storm too.

Charles had thought he could weather any storm, but right now it felt like he had capsized and was floundering in the sea, waves crashing around him. But then out of the gale of his despair came two very unlikely saviors. Two Red Bull drivers had pulled him up and into their lifeboat. They had saved him and asked nothing in return. At least not so far.

A bowl plonking down in front of him jolted Charles from his thoughts. Daniel had set down a freshly prepared salad mixed with fruits, quinoa, and chicken.

 

“I feel like my mum. Eat!” The Australian ruffled Charles' hair and was pleased to see that the younger driver didn’t flinch away.

 

Charles waited until Daniel settled across from him and then picked up a fork. The two ate quietly for a minute or two before Daniel spoke.

 

“How are you doing, Charles?” The humorous tone had disappeared completely, replaced with one of sincerity and concern.

 

The driver in question stared at his salad, dragging around a piece of lettuce. “Better, I guess.”

 

“That’s good.” Daniel paused for a second. “You’ll probably want to get some ice on the bruises though.”

Charles didn’t respond but Daniel hadn’t really expected him too. The Monegasque was clearly aching both on the inside out. Cuts and bruises faded over time with little effort, but psychological injuries took much more delicate care. Daniel wasn’t worried about Charles being physically ready for the next race in a little over a week. No, Daniel was worried about how Charles would react when he was forced back into the unsympathetic frenzy. If Daniel had to guess, he would guess that Charles would compartmentalize and throw himself so completely into finishing the rest of the season on a high that he would never take the time to address the trauma he was clearly dealing with.

Their sport could take so much of you for its own. It drew you in with the promise of glory, and, if you weren’t careful, it would suck you dry in your desperate pursuit of that elusive world championship. Daniel would hate to see that happen to Charles. The Sauber, soon to be Ferrari driver, was an ascending star, brilliant, bright, rivaled only by Max, who, in his own way, was a star. One that burned dangerous, hot, and orange.

 

* * *

 

Max smiled when he heard the sound of movement and soft chatter in the kitchen as he exited the shower. Daniel must have come over early to check on Charles. Max had just pulled on a shirt when he heard his phone ring.  After a short scrounge through his bed, he found it. The name Sebastian Vettel lit up his screen. Of course. He should have expected Seb to call and want an update. Especially considering Charles was the German’s future teammate.

Charles had relaxed into an easy conversation with Daniel. They were currently discussing Australia, Daniel’s favorite topic. Having only really seen a bit of Melbourne during the race week, Charles was more than willing to hear all of the Australian’s stories about Perth and beyond.

 

“You really should come visit, mate. It’s paradise. Well, except for the sharks.” Daniel leaned back on the two legs of his chair, teetering precariously.

 

“Yeah watch out for the sharks.” Max walked in while pocketing his phone. “I visited this fool over break, and I think I spent most of my time looking out for killer bugs, sharks, jellyfish, and kangaroos.”

 

“What’s wrong with kangaroos? I held a baby one with Marcus. They seemed fine.”

 

Max just shook his head while Daniel cracked up next to him. “Just trust me. Those fuckers are bad news.” Daniel was now laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “Ah shut up. You’re not the one who got chased by one!” Max shoved Daniel, sending the Australian toppling to the ground.

 

“Nah mate. I’m the one who saved your sorry ass.” Daniel wiped away the tears of laughter on his cheeks while giving Max a cocky grin from the floor.

 

Charles watched their exchange with amusement for a bit before deciding to step outside on the balcony. He had a phone call to make and the two drivers seemed rather preoccupied anyway.

 

* * *

 

The slight breeze was refreshing. It carried the faint smell of the sea and memories of summer days and simpler times. In better circumstances he would be out cycling, running, hiking, swimming, really anything but staying cooped up in an apartment that wasn’t even his own. Charles pulled up the contact of one of his best friends. Max and Daniel were great, but he just really wanted, no, needed to talk to someone who truly knew him. Before he hit could psyche himself out too much Charles hit dial and waited. It was only a few rings before he heard his friend pick up on the other end.

 

“Charles! Is everything okay?” Pierre’s voice was panicked, but Charles was so glad to hear it that he found he didn’t care. “You just disappeared after the race and nobody could reach you. I even tried to ask people at Ferrari but”

 

“Slow down Pierre!” Charles cut off the Frenchman. “That’s the reason I’m calling.” He took a deep breath. “Look, um, something happened, like a not good something, and well, I um..” He could feel himself getting choked up and had to stop talking, lest he completely lose it.

 

“It’s okay Charlito. Whatever it is. You can tell me”

 

Charles took another deep breath and began to recount what had happened By the time Charles finished explaining to Pierre he felt exhausted like he’d just run a marathon. It dawned on him that he had yet to actually talk about it with anyone. But he also felt relieved, like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was no Atlas. Sharing his burden, if even for a minute, didn’t cause the sky to come crashing down.

Pierre was lost for words. He knew his friend was strong. Heartbreakingly so. But right now he could tell that Charles needed support. And there was no shame in that.

 

“I’m so sorry mon ami. L’enfer c’est les autres, ne c’est pas?”

 

“Pas tous les autres.” Charles sighed. “I’m staying with Max actually. He’s the one that found me.”

 

“Max? Like Max Verstappen?” Charles thought that Pierre had been drinking something judged on the way his friend was coughing and sputtering on the other end.

 

“Yes, Max Verstappen. Your future teammate. Ever heard of him?” Charles teased Pierre. “Daniel is here too, actually. He brought salad over for lunch.”

 

Pierre shook his head in disbelief. “Of course, you would still be eating salad. Sauber and Ferrari won’t kill you for taking some time for yourself, you know?”

 

“You were always the one with the sweet tooth, Pear” Charles shook his head while grinning. “I should probably go before Daniel and Max knock each other out.” On the other side of the glass he could see the two drivers wrestling on the floor of the living area. Max had Daniel pinned before the sneaky Australian reached up and grabbed a pillow off the couch, walloping Max in the face.

 

“All right. Prends soin de toi, s'il te plaît, Charlito. Call me anytime. And have some ice cream!”

 

Charles laughed at Pierre’s last comment as he entered back into Max’s apartment. Just in time to see Max try and smother Daniel with a pillow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! 3,000 word later...  
> I thought it would be nice to end a chapter on a happy note for once!  
> Comment below what you think and any ideas/suggestions. I just might use some ;)  
> I hope you enjoy this installment!
> 
> -Diana


End file.
